


pictures of girls

by subtlewanda



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: (reader has them), Alternate Universe - College/University, College, Creampie, Degradation, F/M, If You Squint - Freeform, Masturbation, Nipple Piercings, Photography, Photography Student Bucky Barnes, Spit Kink, Student Bucky Barnes, Swearing, Top Bucky Barnes, Voyeurism, and, bottom reader, going through this after so long and tagging it for warnings and such is.... wild, mentions of cockwarming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27884002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtlewanda/pseuds/subtlewanda
Summary: you’re prepared for a fun-filled weekend with a friend you haven’t seen in a while. instead, you get a weekend with the guy who sort of rejected you and a camera. what could go wrong?
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Kudos: 134





	pictures of girls

**Author's Note:**

> posted this to tumblr a bit ago and just uploading it all here. you can follow me there at subtlebucky if you'd like to check out the other stuff i've posted that isn't also here.

You rush to be the first one out of the classroom, wishing your professor a great weekend before walking down two flights of outside steps and toward your building. You mull over stopping at your dorm first as you step into the elevator, but ultimately press for the ground level. The two of you can get ready in your room, you figure, Nat won’t mind. You reply to Natasha’s text, letting her know you’re on the way down to the art room in the basement of your dorm hall.

_God, you need this._ You can’t remember the last time the two of you were able to go out together. You hang out, sure, study dates at the university’s library and the occasional movie night in someone’s dorm, but you’ve been busy. She has, too, really, and it’s why you work so well as close friends— but things have been fading in the friendship department between you two, just a little. Your dynamic was closer to ideal when you were _both_ single; you’re happy for Nat, of course you are, but on nights when you study alone and movies in your dorm room are shared between you and whatever characters on the screen, you find yourself the tiniest bit bitter. You always feel guilty, but the bitter feeling usually lingers for longer than you like it to.

This weekend will change that, though, bring back the fun and easy atmosphere with your friend that you’ve been missing. It has to.

You hear his laugh before you even see him, and you’re already groaning as you finally come around the corner, a pout on your lips. _Looks like there’s no weekend plans to put a ridiculous amount of expectations on anymore._

Nat’s turning to you with a guilty smile, Sam attached like a leech. _That’s how you’d describe it, at least._ “Hi.”

“You’re ditching me to hang out with that loser, again?” You point to Sam, who simply smiles.

He kisses Nat’s cheek and squeezes her hips, directing his attention toward her now. She grins back at him, and, apparently, you don’t exist.

“Nat, please,” you’re whining, but you don’t care. “We haven’t gone out since, like, October!” You cross your arms. “You ditched me for this idiot on _Halloween_ , of all holidays. You weren’t even official with him.”

Nat sighs, finally turns to you. “[Y/N], I love you, I really do. But I don’t really think you want to come with Sam and I to his parents’ for the weekend, do you?”

It takes a minute for your brain to wrap around what exactly she was saying, but then your arms fall to your sides, and a soft smile starts to form. “Oh, you— meeting the parents, huh? That's— guys, that’s wonderful.” You’re pulling them into a hug as you speak. _Fuck. Well, there’s that mix of bitterness and guilt again. Maybe you should see if it’s looking for some new friends, since it seems like it’s gonna be sticking around for a while._

“Nat tell you she’s ditching you, too, huh?”

You look up from between Sam and Nat’s shoulders to see Bucky approaching.

_Right_. The other reason why that bitter feeling keeps trying to wedge itself into your heart and plant down _roots_.

The couple met the same night you and Bucky had, and Nat is _meeting Sam’s parents_ for Christ’s sake. You’d barely even broached friendship with Bucky— more like an acquaintance you know almost well because your friends date. The two of you had flirted back and forth for a bit that night, before Lillian from your accounting class freshman year came sobbing to you about some idiot art major named Stewart or Stefan or _something_. You wouldn’t leave her like that, so you’d hurriedly given him your number and taken her outside to calm her down.

He’d never texted you. If you’re completely honest with yourself, you’re not even sure he remembered you from that night. Another mix of slightly bitter feelings while simultaneously feeling guilty for having them. _Emotions are confusing_.

Bucky smiles cheekily at you, and you ignore the flutter in your stomach and between your thighs. _Wow, do I need to get laid._

You clear your throat as you step back, going along with Bucky’s teasing to ignore your thoughts. “Yeah, Sam tell you he’s dipping out of your plans for his parents?”

Sam groans, wiping a hand over his face. “I do _not_ like when you two are together. It’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Maybe for you,” Bucky says pointedly as he places an arm around your shoulders, “But I like when [Y/N]’s around. ‘Makes fun of you way better than I can.”

Your skin warms where his hand rests on your arm. You try not to focus on his touch.

“All the more reason to get away from you two this weekend.” Nat smiles at Sam’s grumbling, kissing him on the cheek.

Sam’s eyebrows shoot up then and he thwacks Bucky across the man’s free arm with the back of his hand. “Hey, dude, ask [Y/N] about the shoot.”

You frown. “What shoot?”

Bucky removes his arm from you as smoothly as possible, yet you feel the discomfort rolling off of him in waves almost immediately. “Sam, there’s a reason I asked you. You’re shameless, and we got the same parts. I don’t think [Y/N] would feel too comfortable with that.”

Bucky’s eyes dart to yours once or twice as he speaks, but he’s nervous as _fuck_. You’ve never seen him like this, and you’re a little curious. You shrug internally. You can always say no. Plus, _same parts_? Your horny brain is more than interested, so it takes the reins. “Why don’t you ask me and let me answer you myself, yeah?” You cross your arms and turn to him.

Sam’s grinning even harder than he was before. “Yeah, man, c’mon. _Ask_.” Natasha smacks Sam in the side, but she’s almost as intrigued as you are.

Bucky’s cornered, he knows it. Even still, his body language is defensive for a moment, but then he sighs. “Alright… Okay, but I can’t look at you when I ask because I know you’re gonna say no. Maybe even laugh at me, so I’d rather just hear it instead of see it, too, you know?”

He waits for you to nod, and you’re still confused, but you go with it as he squeezes his eyes shut. “So… I have to photograph someone naked for my senior portfolio by the end of the year and my slot was for tomorrow with Sam but now they’ve both bailed on us so maybe if you’re comfortable I can shoot you instead?” Bucky rushes his words a bit, but you understand him just fine.

And, you can’t help it, you do laugh.

It’s a short bubble, one you couldn’t have held back if you tried, and it makes Bucky peek an eye open. When he sees your now uncrossed arms, a slight glint in your eye paired with a sweet smile, he relaxes visibly.

“If you need someone to take pictures of, I don’t mind.” You shrug as if your skin isn’t suddenly on fire at the thought of being naked around Bucky. “Not like I have anything else to do.”

There’s a pause, and for a moment you almost take back what you said. You notice Natasha going to say something to save you from complete embarrassment until Sam pinches her side. You want to scream at him, until Bucky speaks up.

“Okay, cool. That would be great, actually.” He sets his bag down on the ground, squatting to shuffle through for something. _His ass looks unreasonably good in those jeans_. “It’s hard to get another slot this late in the year, even harder to call my professor for the list of on-hand models and photograph with someone I don’t know, so thanks.” He finally pulls out a packet and hands it to you. “You’re doing me a huge favor with this.”

Your brows furrow as you look at him, and he continues. “Oh! Yeah, that’s why I came down here in the first place— didn’t see Sam’s text about ditching me until I was already halfway down the steps and I figured why not come tease him for it a little.” Bucky nods at Sam behind you, who rolls his eyes. “Those are just papers you need to read over before we meet tomorrow, and if there’s anything you see that you have a problem with, let me know ASAP. Does 6 work for you, in Curran Hall’s basement?”

You blink. _What is it with art buildings and basements?_ “Sure, yeah, that works.”

Bucky’s smile is so blinding and sweet you swear to God you genuinely almost kiss him. _Maybe you should rub one out tonight so you don’t pounce on him tomorrow_. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then! Wear whatever underwear you’d like, you just need to have a sports bra on.” He’s jogging backwards and out of the room, giving you and the couple a wave goodbye.

Natasha steps in front of you. “We are hanging out when I get back on Sunday so I can hear how this goes. Got it?”

~~

You’re alone with your thoughts again the next night, going down the elevator in the photography building. That packet is… a lot. Disclaimer after disclaimer, signature after signature— you feel like you’re about to be taken away and auctioned off, not sure you fully understood everything in that packet. There are also reassuring things in there, though; only photos that you approve go into the final round, only Bucky and his professor will see them, Bucky can’t “position” you without permission. There’s a guarantee that no one will be walking in or out for the five hours— _five hours_ — that the time slot has allotted. If for some reason it does, the entire thing is somehow tainted and unusable, as is their own photo session. You think that’s just to keep pervs discouraged, but you’re fine with it either way.

For a minute you’re worried you’re early, but Bucky’s already there, finishing setting up equipment. He waves from the other side of the room when he notices you. “Hey! Go ahead and sit wherever, I’ll be with you in a sec.”

You had treated this so casually yesterday, but now your nerves are starting to catch up to you. You’ve read through, and you were pretty sure you got the gist, but you did have a few questions. None that were necessarily deal breakers, but suddenly they feel much heavier than before.

Bucky touches your shoulder, and you jump a little. “Hey,” he says through a chuckle, but his head is titled in slight worry. “You okay? Never texted me last night, so I figured things were good to go?”

“Of course! Yeah,” you smile nervously, then frown. “Well, almost. I just… I know you said to text you with questions, but I felt… a bit overwhelmed, I guess. I wanted to handle it on my own, but…”

“That overwhelming feeling is catching up with you now, yeah?” Bucky’s voice is soft as he sits down next to you on the couch, understanding, and it makes the tension in your shoulders fall away. _Why does he have to be so sweet?_ “It’s okay. It happens more often than you think, especially with people who— I’m assuming, at least— have never done a shoot before, let alone a pretty bare one.”

You sigh, but then look up at him sheepishly. “I think I have just a couple questions, then, if that’s okay?” He nods before you’ve even finished your question, and you relax even more. You hate that you were nervous in the first place. “So, this professor… are they a dude? Because I’m… not sure how totally comfortable I feel with a man giving _you_ a grade based on _my_ body. If that makes sense.”

“Makes total sense, I promise.” Bucky touches your knee as he says it, and you feel a different sort of tension wanting to pulse under your skin before he pulls away. “But you have nothing to worry about with that. My professor is a complete professional— in fact, she specialized in stuff like this before moving onto teaching, so she knows how to judge a photograph, not a person.”

“And there’s…” You take a deep breath through your nose. “You’re sure there’s no way someone’s gonna come down here?”

Bucky shrugs a little. “About 99% sure, yeah. Most people don’t know it’s happening, really only photography students and their models. So, we should be okay, yeah?” He gives you a smile, calm but bashful, like he’s hoping you can accept that as an answer.

99%. Well, it’ll have to do.

“Okay,” you smile back at him.

“Great! Okay. So, I wanna go ahead and get started if that’s okay— we probably won’t need the full five hours, it’s just the recommended amount of time for a slot so that no one’s coming in on people changing and stuff.”

You nod but stay seated until Bucky quirks a brow at you. “Oh, yeah.” You stand and turn, peeling off your hoodie and sweats.

When you look at him, his eyes are closed. He’s about to photograph you like _this_ , and yet he closes his eyes while you undress. Human decency, from a college boy? How are you not supposed to want to jump his bones?

You clear your throat, and Bucky opens his eyes, beaming at you. “Cool. You wanna sit for me again?” You have to physically keep yourself from shuddering when he says _for me_. “Can I touch you?” You ignore the impulse to squeeze your thighs together at his words— anything to relieve the tension there— and nod.

Bucky has you start on your back with your knees in the air, feet touching the back of your thighs. He pulls a white sheet over you. “Position that however you’d like for now, and I’ll move it as you get more comfortable, yeah?”

After the first few clicks of his camera, you feel yourself molding into the couch and becoming genuinely comfortable. _This isn’t as bad as you thought it would be._

“Am I okay to move the sheet a little?”

You give him a small smile. “Yeah. You can move it how you want to.”

Bucky grins, and your chest tightens a bit. You’re reminded as to why you were so nervous in the first place. “Okay. Turn onto your side and face me… Yeah, that’s good.” His hand moves to adjust the sheet lower down your body, exposing your sports bra to the camera.

This is how the next hour or so is spent. Taking pictures, even laughing a bit, Bucky cracking a joke or two to try and get you to relax completely. And you do.

It’s when he has you turn on your left side, facing the couch with the sheet completely gone, that the atmosphere changes.

As you flip, you feel your boyshorts move out of place slightly, but you think nothing of it. It doesn’t feel _off_ , so you figure it’s fine.

When you don’t hear the click of Bucky’s camera after a moment, though, you clear your throat and try to adjust whatever issue there might be. “Sorry about that. Uh… all good?” _Really weird way to ask that question, but okay._

You feel Bucky’s presence suddenly much closer. You see him out of the corner of your eye, but you refuse to make eye contact, because, _Jesus_ , this is already embarrassing and you should not be this turned on from just his proximity to you.

“Can I touch you?” The question is different this time. It’s in his lowered voice, in his tone, somewhere. There’s something different and you desperately want him to act on it.

All you do is nod, and you can’t hide the switch in your breathing when he pulls on the material to shift it back into place.

You’re wet, and he has to know it. _Fucking hell._

As you feel him finally move away from you, the little shit comments on it. “Excited to be photographed like this, hmm?”

The words spur you on more, but you can practically see the shit-eating grin he’s sporting. “Shut the fuck up and keep taking photos, dickwad.”

He laughs, and at the sound of the next click, you think things might calm down, at least a little. You’re thankful for it, though the horny side of you is _not_ pleased. It had almost won out against you for a minute there, and it’s pissed.

More time passes, and when he senses you feel comfortable again, he has you turn on your stomach, and it’s when he comes to face you with the camera that you notice it. He’s _half fucking hard_ in his sweats.

You truly weren’t planning on getting laid in this situation, but plans can always change.

He tells you to tilt your chin up just so and look right into the camera lens. He takes four photos, and then mumbles something about lighting and adjustments.

You take your opening. “You can’t do nude shots, then?” Casual, as if it’s simply out of curiosity. _No underlying motives._

“As long as underwear is on, we can, technically, but there’s no need.” His voice is distracted as he searches for a different colored gel to filter through the light.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You put just the right amount of shocked in your tone, as if you hadn’t read that in the packet. “I would’ve done nude.”

“Because…” he sighs for a second, sets the folder of colors down. “I don’t know.” He looks up at you, but only for a second. Bucky Barnes being flustered is adorable, but it being because of you is incredibly attractive.

You chew on your lip for a second, choosing your next words carefully. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

There’s a pause, and you hear him take a breath before that easygoing attitude is back. “Next time.” He winks. “Besides, I didn’t want you to think I was doing this just to see you naked.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would think he’s trying to make this easy for you. “Yeah, what a shame that would be, if I thought _the_ Bucky Barnes might wanna see my pierced nipples.” 

You hear him choke for a second, and you try to hold back your smirk. _Hook and line. Waiting on the sinker._ “Pierced?”

“Oh, you couldn’t tell?” You tilt your head just so. You absentmindedly think you might love having this affect on him a little too much.

“Must’ve been covered by your arms.”

“Oh, right.” You shrug nonchalantly like you didn’t just throw out your greatest play. _Take the bait, Bucky_. “Guess so.”

There’s silence again, as he resets two more lights, and then he clears his throat. “We can do no bra shots, if you’d like.”

_Thank God_. “Now?”

“Uh, yeah, yes— now is good.”

You sit up slow and carefully pull the sports bra from your body. He wets his bottom lip, fully watches you _take it off_. You think you almost have him until he blinks, clearing his throat once more. “Might be nice for you to put an arm around them for a few, like the bra ones, yeah?”

There are no more cards left for you to play, and so you accept your fate. Sure, you’re attractive, and he’s definitely not _half_ hard anymore. Unfortunately, though, that doesn’t mean Bucky is going to sleep with you. You plan to be getting off tonight anyway, so you don’t let it get to you too much.

“Fuck.” Bucky puts his camera down and runs a hand over his face, bringing you out of your head. “I really don’t wanna be an asshole.”

You frown. “Is everything okay?” He makes eye contact with you as you speak. When you sit up, though, his eyes deceive him. It’s so quick you almost miss it, but you notice the look on his face when his eyes dart back to yours. Apologetic, but something else, too. Want.

“I…” And your heart almost breaks, honestly, at how guilty he sounds. “I swear, I really didn’t ask you for _that_. This… It was innocent, I swear.” Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, digs the palms of his hands into them.

_Well_ , you think, _maybe there’s one last play to be made_.

“Bucky.” He almost doesn’t look at you, but you let the silence force him to. His breath hitches when he does.

“What… what are you…” He can’t even get the full sentence out because you’re holding eye contact with him as you drag your hand up, slow. Your fingertips dance around your breasts, a tease for the both of you.

“Tell me how you want me, Bucky.”

When he gasps, eyes wide and mouth dropped open, you bite your lip to keep in your small laughter. You think you actually might be okay with Bucky not touching you at all, if he keeps reacting to you like that.

It seems you two have the same thought. He swallows, and then he sits up completely. “Get comfortable on the couch. Lay on your back, and use your left hand to touch your nipple.”

_Holy shit._

You position yourself immediately, circling your nipple before dragging your knuckles over it.

“Is it… Is it okay if I still take photos?” That makes you stop. You look over to him. “Not for the class, or anything like that, it’s just you… You look good. Really good.”

You know you’re in no position to laugh, but you do, a little. “That’s really sweet of you to say.” You smile at him. “Photos are fine, Bucky.”

When he nods, you lean back into the mood you had set. Hand brushing over your left nipple, and you can’t help but clench when you hear his camera go off. _Christ_.

“Move your hand down, now. Yeah, like that.” Bucky snaps a photo of the tips of your fingers stopping at the waistband of your underwear. It’s a silent asking of permission.

Bucky doesn’t like that. “You want something, honey?” He tsks as you close your eyes, panting a little. “Better ask me for it. Can’t read your mind, can I?”

You look at him and shake your head, unsure if it’s an answer to his last question or a _please, I can’t_.

“C’mon, baby. Don’t you wanna be good for me?” And you hate Bucky Barnes, you decide, with his teasing tone and cocky smirk that only serves to make you wetter.

_Two can play at this game, then_. “I wanna… Wanna fuck myself on my fingers while you tell me what to do.”

Bucky’s facial expression doesn’t change visibly, but the imprint of his dick in his sweatpants is reaction enough for you. “Go ahead, then, sweetheart. Pull off your panties and spread for me.”

You’re definitely not getting the upper hand back. You’re kind of okay with that, though.

You’re so distracted in taking off your last garment of clothing that you don’t even notice he’s moved until he’s there, chair moved to the end of the couch where your head is. As soon as you lay back down, he leans over you, and you feel so _small_ , it’s thrilling.

Your dominant hand rests on your inner thigh, legs spread as he’d asked. He puts his hand on your right cheek, thumb easing over the edge of your brow. You close your eyes, panting more openly now at his touch, and Bucky hums at your submissiveness. “You’re sweet, huh? Gonna be good for me?”

You nod obediently, and open your eyes slowly again as you speak. “Wanna be good for you. Need to.” You know the look on your face screams desperate, wanting, but Bucky doesn’t seem to mind.

“If there’s anything that makes you uncomfortable, you tell me, okay?” You nod again. “Go ahead, then, honey. Get two fingers wet and rub your clit for me.”

You reach down with your index and middle, dip into your entrance just enough to coat the pads of your fingers. You can’t keep in the whimper from the back of your throat as you pull them out, the breathy sigh as you start on your clit in slow circles.

You whine as Bucky chuckles. “So good already, huh? Poor little baby, can’t even keep your eyes open all the way. Does it feel _too_ good, touching that pretty pussy of yours?”

You don’t answer, and Bucky’s hand moves from its steady place on your cheek to wrapped around your jaw, pointer finger and thumb angling your head up to his. “When I ask you something, honey, you answer me, yeah?” He nods in question. His voice is sweet, almost condescending, and you honestly think you’ve never slipped into sub space faster.

He lets up on his grip, but only slightly. He moves his thumb over your lips, as if silently trying to coax an answer out of you. “I… Sorry. Yes. It…” Your head is spinning, words mumbled against him, and your limbs feel heavy. “It feels good, really… good.”

He smiles, and the satisfaction of satisfying him is new and welcome. Bucky bites his lip then, and that’s when you notice him palming himself through his sweats. Your mouth waters. _Fuck._

He stops teasing, pulls on your bottom lip so that you open for him, and he places his thumb inside. You’re eagerly licking and circling your tongue around it before he even tells you to suck, and _there’s that smile again_. You shudder, shutting your eyes.

A click has your eyes shooting open again, and the camera’s pointed at your face as another one sounds. “So obedient, sweetheart. How could I not want to capture this?” You shift just a little, left thigh hitching just a bit higher, and you increase the speed on your clit. “Getting a little desperate, honey? You want more?” You nod, sucking on his thumb more harshly, swirling it at the top, and he lets out a low moan that makes you even hotter. “Go ahead, sweet thing. One finger. You’ve earned it.”

He drags his thumb out as you spread your entrance open for your middle finger. You gasp as it starts to breech— you’re so much wetter than you’d expected. You moan, though, when Bucky’s thumb comes into contact with your piercing. “Fuck.” You whine.

You start to really go for it, then, moving your finger, but it’s almost already not enough. Bucky seems to sense that.

When you feel his mouth wrap around your other nipple, you gasp, and your hips buck. You feel him smile against the skin there, and he leaves a kiss before pulling back for a second. “Add another finger when you’re ready, baby.”

And after a handful more of pumps, you do add a second one, and the stretch is barely there. You want to ask for a third, but you want to _earn it_ first.

His tongue gliding over your left nipple while his hand toys with the other is enough of a distraction for a few minutes, until it isn’t. “B-Bucky, I… I need… I want another finger, please, I… what can I do?”

You feel his groan vibrate on your breast, and you let a breath out through your nose. “Are you asking me what you can do to deserve another finger in your pussy, honey? Too greedy for just two, hmm?” You let out another whimper, louder than the one before, and nod. “God, you… Jesus. Such a good little slut, even when you’re desperate for it.” He leaves open-mouthed kisses at the skin around your breast, trails up until he reaches your neck. “Open up for me and close your eyes.” You do as you’re told, and wait. It feels like forever, but really, Bucky probably made you wait a minute or two before he did anything. You know it’s a test— will you open your eyes before you’re told? Whine like a bitch until he does something?— so you stay exactly how he asked. _You want to gain his praise._

It’s the moment after that thought passes through your brain that Bucky spits, harsh, into your open mouth. You gasp, and Bucky’s pushing your jaw up. “Close your mouth and fucking _swallow_.”

You close your mouth the rest of the way, swallowing with eyes still closed. “Open your eyes.” When you listen, Bucky actually laughs at you, lets out a tsk. You feel so pathetic, and it only serves to make you wetter. “Take your fingers out, baby.” He starts to move, and you want to protest but you keep it in. You’re trying to be good for him.

You gasp again at the feeling of being empty, the drag of your fingers pulling out, and then you feel Bucky lifting your thighs, settling in between your legs. He wraps them around his waist, pulls your core right against him, and, Christ, he feels huge. _He_ should’ve had you prepping with _four_ , not two.

You buck your hips up after moments of nothing, and he laughs at you again. “Oh, honey. You wanna come so bad you’re gonna start being a dumb little baby, huh?” Bucky grinds the imprint of his dick into you, and you whine in relief, but it’s still not enough. “All needy and stupid. Cos all you’re good for is fucking yourself on my cock, hmm?” You nod, pushing up against him, and he groans. “Say it, honey. Admit it.”

You feel him pull his sweatpants down as far as they can go with him on his knees, and it hits you suddenly that you’re entirely naked and he’s been fully clothed up until that moment. Even then, if someone were to walk in, it would take him seconds whereas you would simply be bare.

The thought makes your heart rate pickup, and it’s then you speak. “Please. _Please_ , I want it so bad, Bucky, I’ll be so good for you, so good. I… I _need_ you inside me, please, I—”

He’s pressing in just past the tip, then, and _holy fuck_ , the stretch feels so good. He waits for you to nod, and you let out a breath as he moves the rest of the way in, slow, and you’re about to throw your head back until Bucky’s surging forward to kiss you.

The kiss distracts you from the rest of the discomfort, and you thank him silently for it. He nips at your lips, and he’s dominating your tongue with his own immediately. For a moment, all you can focus on is the timing of his lips on yours, the massage of his tongue, until he’s _all the way in_. You’ve never felt fuller, and you’re separating from him with a high moan.

“You feel so good, honey. Fuck. Stupid little slut who’s cunt is just aching for it, yeah?” You nod, and you’re begging him in your head to just move. “Maybe I’ll keep you like this. This pussy feels… Jesus. Too good to not have you keep my cock warm for hours. Would you do that? Be my dumb little baby and sit on my dick?”

His words combined with his dragging in and out of you make you almost delirious. “I— ah, yes, but please don’t— _don’t stop_ , please, _please_. You feel… don’t stop.”

His laugh is dark. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll give your pussy what it’s asking for.”

He speeds his hips up gradually, and he spits on your right breast, playing your nipple between his fingers as his mouth envelopes the other. God, you feel good. _Too good. Shit._

“Bucky, I’m— can I come? I wanna come, _I’m gonna_ — please, I can’t hold it, I—”

“Go on, sweetheart. Wanna feel you letting go around me, c’mon. Make me proud, baby. Keep being good for me.”

You let go, and his mouth reattaches itself to your nipple as he helps you ride it out. When you come down, you realize he’s still fucking into you, and that almost gets you going again.

Bucky groans as he sits up, and your mouth drops open at the overstimulation— the change in position and the pacing are so much, and it’s good. “Fuck, _fuck_ , open your mouth.”

You stick out your tongue and lean on the backs of your elbows. You open your mouth as wide as it can go and hold eye contact with him. You try to get out a _please, Bucky_ , and even though it’s almost entirely unclear, it seems to be the thing to do him in.

He paints white streaks across your cheeks and your neck, being careful of your piercings and god, even in his state, he is careful, sweet. _Who knew one could be thoughtful when coming all over another person’s face?_

He takes a breather for a second, and then he’s scrambling to get up. You’re confused, but you lay there, contemplating whether or not it’d be rude to ask him for his shirt to wipe away the remnants of him. No, right?

After a few minutes, Bucky comes back with some wet paper towels, looking sheepish. “Uh, here. For… your face.”

You put your clothes back on in silence, take one of the unused paper towels to rub away at any tear lines. You can tell he wants to say something, so you wait.

It’s when you’re about to slip your shoes back on that he speaks. “I wanna go out with you,” Bucky blurts. “On a date. And then, you know. Keep… going on them. If you want to.”

You grin. “Yeah. That’s usually how dating works, Bucky.”

“Right! Right.”

“But sure. You wanna come back to my dorm and hang out?” You do put your shoes back on, then. “I can help you carry whatever you need to yours first, and you can stay the night if you want.”

“What?”

You laugh, and then look up at him with your arms crossed. “Is it that hard to believe that I like you?” When he continues to stare blankly, your arms drop. _Fuck, you made this awkward_. “We don’t have to hang out, I didn’t mean to pressure you into a date or anything similar. Really, it’s—”

“No! I…” He breathes, and then you notice a small smile on his face. “I’m just surprised you want to, after you ditched me on Halloween.” He shoves your shoulder lightly, starting to pack up the gels in their correct orders. He says it so casually, as if it’s an inside joke between the two of you. Apparently, you’d missed it.

“What? Dude, I gave you my number! You never messaged me. I figured you were just trying to be a wingman for Sam.” You look at him incredulously.

His brows furrow. “Wait. Seriously?”

You nod at his head tilted towards you, and then something clicks in your brain. You roll your eyes. “Okay, you really don’t need to act like you weren’t being a little douche-y that night to appease me.” You start to help him, flipping on the main light in the room to turn off the studio setup.

“[Y/N].” You’re about to cross to the last light fixture to switch off, but you stop when he says your name. You turn to him with a raised brow, about to throw out some _seriously, it’s fine!_ line that you know neither of you will believe, but he cuts you off. “I thought you gave me the wrong number. I… I thought you were uninterested and you had that girl come up to you on purpose. You had pulled out your phone for a second, I figured you had texted her. I didn’t wanna embarrass myself by texting the number.”

You pause for a second, and then it all hits you. “You’ve got to be shitting me! Bucky, you’re a dumbass. You couldn’t risk your _pride_? Seriously? God, why do I still like you? Why is this only making you more endearing to me?”

You say the last part up toward the ceiling, and when you look back down, Bucky’s walking toward you with a contagious grin. “Yeah? I’m _endearing_ , huh?”

He offers his hand out to you, and you take it. _Of course that’s what he took out of it_. “Well,” he pulls you in, wrapping arms around your waist, “Unfortunately for me, yes. Unfortunately for you, though, I’m just as, if not more, endearing in many ways. Looks like you’re screwed, Barnes.”

He puts a hand around the back of your neck and pulls you in, kisses you so quick you miss it before it’s over. He smiles. “Not from where I’m standing.”

You don’t ask him what he means by that or what he’s talking about, because you get it. You know; you’re in the moment with him, then. And you feel it, too.


End file.
